Читать книгу Made For Sex - Joan Elizabeth Lloyd - Страница 7

“I guess it all started just over three years ago,” Ronnie explained. “You have to understand that Jack and I have always had an open relationship. I guess you’d say we were swingers. We both enjoy sex a lot and find that outside activities actually enhance what we have.”

“You mean…with other people?”

Ronnie chuckled. “Yes, both of us were. And it didn’t bother me at all. I loved the idea that someone else was making Jack happy, particularly since he was—and still is—away so much. And back then he’d come home with new ideas, toys, sexy lingerie.” When she saw Carla’s expression, Ronnie added, “Put your eyebrows down, Carla. You remember I was always the experimenter.”

“I remember some of your experiments. Like Oreos and peanut butter. Go on.”

“Well, the only strict requirement that Jack and I had, and still have, is that no one has intercourse without a condom. Period.”

“Don’t you get jealous?”

“I can say truthfully that I’m not jealous. I can’t speak for what goes on in Jack’s mind, but for me, not a bit. Anyway, because of his traveling, Jack and I spend at least three weeks out of every month apart. We are always very careful with each other’s feelings. We talk often, and I’m sure that Jack has no objections to what I’m doing, although he doesn’t know all the details. I have no problem with his flirtations. And they’re just that, flirtations. Nothing serious, just lust and good sex. For me too.”

“If you can really handle it….” Carla paused. “I’m not sure I could.”

“I don’t actually know of many who can, but Jack and I seem to do okay.”

“You were telling me how this thing,” Carla waved her hand around the luxurious room, “got started.”

“Jack and I were having dinner with a business associate of his, TJ Sorenson of American Oil and Gas Products.” Ronnie closed her eyes. “It was Christmastime about three years ago. I remember that there were tiny trees and red candles on the tables.”

“What a meal,” Jack said, settling back with a cup of espresso. “I’ve never been here before but you can be sure I’ll come here again.”

“I discovered Chez Martin several months ago,” TJ said, “and I keep hoping that no one else will. I read the restaurant columns and am relieved every time I find other places discussed. So far no reviewer had found Chez Martin. I’m particularly glad I could share it with you. You’re two of my favorite people.” TJ Sorenson was about fifty, with a head full of white hair and a bushy white moustache, which he stroked with one index finger when he was thinking. An old-time wildcatter, TJ’s eyes were the color of cornflowers with deep lines at the corners from squinting in the bright sun for dozens of years. He was a handsome man, with the outdoor look of someone who spent a great deal of time in the sun, wind, and weather. He didn’t look old enough to have a grown son, a married daughter, and three grandchildren.

“Thanks so much, TJ,” Ronnie said. “I’m so full I could burst.” She took a sip of her white crème de menthe on the rocks and gazed at the two men, both looking mildly uncomfortable in double-breasted suits, white shirts, and ties. Although he looks great in his usual jeans and sweatshirt, I love how Jack looks in a suit, Ronnie thought. And the slight gray at the temples of his carefully combed dark brown hair makes him look more like a banker than an oil explorer.

“I’m glad you’re so satisfied, because I have an ulterior motive for inviting you tonight.” TJ stroked his moustache. “I would like to ask you a favor and I’m not entirely sure how to do it.”

“Just ask,” Jack said. “You’ve been so great to me for all these years, I’ll be happy to help if I can.”

“Well,” TJ said, “I need both of you to agree, although it’s really Ronnie’s favor.”

Ronnie’s head popped up, her blond hair brushing her shoulders. “Me?”

TJ sighed. “Let me explain. First of all, I hope you don’t mind that Jack has told me about your delightfully original relationship.”

“Of course not. Jack and I are not ashamed of our lifestyle.” Ronnie stroked Jack’s hand lovingly. “We love each other and have fun as well.” Jack winked one gray eye and nodded.

“You two seem to have figured out something that works for you and you know how much I like you both.”

Ronnie rested her elbows on the table and studied the older man. TJ, who had recently been promoted to executive vice president of American Oil, had been Jack’s first boss. The two men had hit it off almost immediately, and as TJ climbed the corporate ladder, Jack climbed with him. Several years earlier, when Jack formed his own geology consulting firm, TJ had given him moral support and had seen to it that American Oil put him on retainer. Jack and Ronnie owed him a lot.

In addition to their business relationship, the two men had become friends. In the early days, TJ and Jack had traveled together on oil drilling expeditions, often spending weeks at a time in the field, living in a tent, and actually wielding a pick and shovel. In the years since TJ had become office-bound, Jack and Ronnie had dined occasionally with TJ and his wife Alice, most recently one evening the previous summer on the Sorensons’ new forty-foot sailboat.

When TJ seemed at a loss as to how to continue, Ronnie said, “Whatever is bothering you can’t be that terrible. Why don’t you just come out with it?”

“Right.” He sipped his cognac. “It’s my son. You met Tim last summer on the boat. What was your impression of him, Ronnie? As a woman. And be honest.”

She remembered TJ’s son. He had been on his way somewhere but had paused for a moment to make small talk. She recalled an awkward young man who seemed uncomfortable with her. “He’s a nice-looking guy, as I remember,” she said, hedging. “How old is he now?”

“He’s twenty-four. Tell me what you think of him as a person.”

“I hardly spent any time with him,” Ronnie said. “But he was charming, seemed to know the right thing to say but I guess he seemed a bit distant, a bit difficult to get to know.”

“He’s shy with women because he’s had a few bad experiences. And now he’s much worse. He was engaged, you know.”

“No,” Ronnie said. “I didn’t know. You said was?”

“I did. The bitch did a number on him. I think she was more interested in my money than in Tim. Anyway, about a month ago, when he seemed to be losing interest, she lost her temper at our dinner table one evening. There were several other couples, their friends and ours, and Clarisse had been drinking. Something snapped, I’ve no idea what. But whatever caused it she read him out and, among other things, told him he was a lousy lover. I think her exact phrasing was that he couldn’t give a nymphomaniac an orgasm.”

“Oh shit,” Jack said. “He must have been devastated.”

“He was. Fortunately Tim and I have an honest relationship and we’ve talked at length since then. He doesn’t want anything to do with Clarisse, but he admits that she might have a point about his sexual prowess. He told me that he feels inadequate and awkward as a lover. I told him that good sex takes two and that maybe he and Clarisse just weren’t compatible, but he’s really down on himself. We talked about finding a prostitute to, you know, teach him about women and sex, but he didn’t want anything like that. Too impersonal, too clinical.”

“Am I starting to see a plan here?” Ronnie asked.

“I hope so,” TJ said. “I know and trust both of you and I need someone to teach Tim about women. Ronnie?”

“I’m flattered and I’d like to help. But I won’t do anything without his knowledge,” Ronnie said.

“Of course not.” He looked from Ronnie to Jack. “If you two agree, I’ll talk to him. I mentioned you recently and he remembers meeting you last summer. As a matter of fact, I think he was impressed, said you were a knockout, as I recall. I don’t know whether that’s the good news or the bad.”

“I think it would be wonderful for Tim,” Jack said, his charming grin revealing even, white teeth. “Ronnie’s just the right woman to teach a young man about love and sex. She’s terrific.” He squeezed his wife’s hand.

“So you’re both willing?” TJ said.

“If Tim wants to, I’m certainly willing,” Ronnie said.

Later that night, Ronnie and Jack lay in bed, naked, propped up on several pillows. “That’s quite an assignment,” Jack said, “teaching a young man about sex.”

“I know,” Ronnie said. “It’s a bit daunting.”

“Nonsense,” Jack said. He tangled his fingers in Ronnie’s hair. “Any man who looks at your full lips will want to kiss you.” He pressed his lips against hers. “He’ll want to use his tongue to play with yours.” He opened her mouth with his tongue and stroked the inside. “He’ll want to touch your face.” He ran the pads of his fingers over Ronnie’s forehead, cheeks, and nose. “And close your eyes with his lips.” He kissed her eyelids.

“Maybe you should teach him,” Ronnie said. “You do things so well.”

As his hands made her skin burn everywhere they touched, Jack said, his voice hoarse, “Will you tell me every detail? Will you demonstrate to me everything you taught him?” His breathing was rough as his hands found her wet center.

“I may not share exactly what we do because that seems very private. But I’ll make up something delicious,” Ronnie said, wrapping her legs around her husband’s waist. “But for right now, just fuck me good.”

They were both so hot that their mating was frantic, tangling their bodies in sheets and pillows. He pounded into her hard and screamed when he came. Her orgasm wasn’t far behind.

Tim called Ronnie about a week later. “My dad told me about your conversation,” he said without preamble. “I’m really embarrassed about all this.”

“I’m a little uncomfortable too, Tim, but I gather that this type of thing is common in Europe. The older woman educating the younger man.”

Tim’s hollow laugh echoed through the phone. “That doesn’t help and anyway, you’re not that much older.”

Ronnie laughed. “It doesn’t help me either, but I’d love to spend time with you, if you’d like. We could talk and do whatever you want, nothing more.”

Ronnie heard Tim take a deep breath. “I think I would.” He paused. “Maybe we could have dinner at that place Dad took you to. Like next Tuesday evening?”

Ronnie had been dreading a long dinner during which she and Tim would have to make pleasant conversation. It sounded awful. “You know, let’s pass on dinner,” Ronnie suggested. “Let me meet you at your apartment at about eight. We can talk and see what happens from there.”

“I could pick you up.” Ronnie could hear the hesitancy in his voice.

“I’d prefer to meet you, if that’s okay.” No long drive with awkward silences.

“Sure. Ronnie?”

“Yes.”

“I’m terrified and mortified.”

“Don’t be. We’ll only do what makes both of us comfortable. Okay?”

“I’ll see you Tuesday.” Tim gave Ronnie directions to his apartment.

“Okay. I’ll see you at eight o’clock. And Tim, wear those tight, over-washed jeans you were wearing that evening last summer. I remember how good they looked on you.”

“Yeah,” Tim said, his voice a bit lighter. “Sure. I will.” He hung up.

Ronnie drove to the apartment complex the following Tuesday and grabbed a heavy camel wool coat from the backseat. She wore a deep red, button front, man-tailored shirt and jeans, with her bare feet stuffed into soft leather loafers. She had on almost no makeup and had pulled her hair into a ponytail. Although she was in her early thirties she looked younger and less threatening. Only her lingerie was intended to tantalize, a dark red demi-bra and matching thong-style panties.

Her palms sweaty, Ronnie parked her car, found her way to Tim’s apartment, and rang the bell. It took a moment before she heard footsteps.

“Hi,” Tim said as he opened the door. Ronnie was surprised at how much he had changed in the few months since she had last seen him. Although he had been twenty-three that evening on the boat, he had still had some of the gawky teenaged angles and hollows to his body. No more.

“You’ve grown up,” Ronnie said as she looked him over slowly and appraisingly, enjoying the way his body now filled out the navy blue knit shirt he wore. His shoulders were wide and his hips narrow. Lord she loved muscular shoulders and she longed to run her palms over his upper arms, feel them around her. That would have to wait, however. Right now Tim’s fists were clenched at his sides and the open ingenuous smile that she knew could warm his ordinary-looking face was hidden beneath his nervousness.

Tim was terrified. When he and his dad discussed Clarisse’s ugly comments, and Tim had reluctantly admitted that even before that evening he had begun to doubt himself. He’d been a normal teenaged stud, seducing several members of his high school class, then having several longer-term relationships in college. But with Clarisse it had been different. As the months of their relationship passed, it took longer and longer for him to arouse her. He tried to be considerate and give her the time she needed but after prolonged foreplay, once he finally got inside, he came so quickly that Clarisse complained that Tim always left her unsatisfied. The last few times they had slept together, he’d been unable to get an erection at all. “Don’t you have a clue about women?” Clarisse had shrieked late one night. “All you want to do is fuck. Stick it in and to hell with the woman.” She’d laughed at him. “Now you can’t even get it up.” His brain understood what was going on, but his soul had doubts.

The scene at his father’s dinner table had been a humiliation for Tim and for several weeks he had gone straight home after work and shut himself in his apartment. After almost a month his father had showed up at his door and sat him down for a serious talk.

At first Tim had been appalled by his dad’s suggestion of hiring a prostitute, but when Ronnie’s name came up, Tim’s interest had been piqued and his body had reacted. Although he’d only met her the one time on the boat, he’d spent many nights fantasizing about her long blond hair and great body. TJ had explained about Jack and Ronnie’s unusual relationship, and Tim had agreed to the outlandish plan.

Now Ronnie was here and Tim was panic-stricken. This was all a terrible mistake. As Tim saw the corners of her mouth turn up, he asked, “What are you smiling at?” Her eyes were roaming all over his body, making his skin prickle. Was she going to make fun of him and of this ridiculous idea?

“Nothing. It’s just that you’ve matured and I enjoy looking at you.” She would tell him later, in detail, how hunky he’d become. Instinctively Ronnie knew that he wasn’t ready.

Tim was nice looking, with sandy brown hair and eyes the color of toast. As Tim nervously ran his long, delicate fingers through his hair, Ronnie thought about how those hands would feel on her skin. Nice, she thought, warming to her task. Very nice. And despite his nervousness, he had a sexy way of looking right into her eyes that made Ronnie tingle. “May I come in?” she said, noticing that he had worn the jeans she’d suggested.

Tim stepped back and let Ronnie brush past him into his apartment. God, he thought, she smells so good. “I’m glad you came.” His face reddened and he looked mortified as he realized his accidental double entendre.

“You know, Tim,” Ronnie said as Tim shut the door, “we’re going to drive each other crazy if we don’t relax.” She placed a light kiss on his cheek and dropped her coat on a chair.

“Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “I’ve been jumpy as a cat all day.” He rubbed his hands down the thighs of his jeans. “I’m not sure this was a good idea.”

“It was a wonderful idea and we’ll just talk for a while. Nothing you don’t want. Okay?”

Tim looked at his shoes, then looked at Ronnie. God, she was so sexy. He nodded.

Suddenly Ronnie was completely comfortable. Tim was a genuinely nice human being. “There’s nothing to be jumpy about. Have you got anything to drink? I think we could both use one.”

“I’ve got a bottle of champagne.”

“Great. Got any orange juice? We could make mimosas.”

“Sure. Good idea. The OJ’s in the fridge.”

“Any brandy?”

“There might be a bottle in the closet to the right. Why?”

“To make the perfect mimosa,” Ronnie said, crossing to the tiny kitchen, “you should add a shot of brandy.” Ronnie retrieved a container of juice and rummaged through the liquor closet until she found a bottle of Triple Sec. “This’ll do,” she said. Returning to the living room, she saw that Tim had half-filled two champagne flutes with champagne. He quickly added an equal amount of juice, then she topped each off with a shot of Triple Sec.

“To the evening,” Ronnie said, touching her glass to Tim’s.

Tim stared into her eyes over the rim of his glass, unaware of the sensuousness of his gaze. “Yes. To the evening.”

Not too fast, Ronnie told herself, tearing her eyes from his face. She wandered. “Nice place,” she said. They stood in the large living room which was comfortably furnished with a cream-and-navy rough-textured sofa, a matching lounge chair, and modern wooden coffee and end tables. The walls were covered with photos, mostly landscapes, taken all around the world. One that particularly intrigued her showed a market scene of stalls stacked with merchandise and aisles filled with over-tired tourists. Although the photo was in black and white, it conveyed all the colors of the scene. “Where’s this?”

“Cairo,” he said. “I was there two years ago with my dad.”

“And this?” The picture was of a river with houseboats littering its shores.

“Amsterdam.”

“Wow,” she said, honestly impressed. “Did you take all these pictures?”

“Yeah. Photography has been a love of mine since I was a kid.”

“These are terrific.”

“Thanks. I’ve converted my second bedroom into a darkroom and I do all my own developing and enlarging.”

Ronnie walked slowly around the room studying the black-and-white photos. “These are really very good. Do you ever do portraits?”

“Sure.” He pulled out an album and proudly showed Ronnie several skillfully taken photographs of women. He pointed to one, a slightly over-made-up woman in her early twenties with an expression that, despite the smile, seemed disapproving. “That’s Clarisse, my ex-fiancée. I wanted to mount this photo on cardboard and use it as a dartboard, but it’s too good a picture. You know, it’s funny. Now that I think about it, this was one of the few times I ever saw her smile when it wasn’t for effect.”

Ronnie laughed. “From what your father told me, the dartboard idea sounds like a good one.”

Tim hesitated, then joined Ronnie’s laughter. “You’re right. But it truly is a good picture of her.” He studied the photo. “Actually, she’s never looked that good.”

Ronnie kicked off her shoes, settled onto the sofa, and patted the seat next to her. “Sit here and we’ll talk.” As he sat down, she asked, “Would you be interested in taking some pictures of me? I’d love to have a good portrait to give Jack for our anniversary.”

“Sure. That would be great. I’d really enjoy it.”

“Have you ever considered taking portraits professionally? The ones you showed me were really good.”

“Do you really think I could do this for money?”

“You never know. Maybe the ones I have in mind will be the start of a new career.”

While they made small talk Ronnie felt the alcohol warm her body and knew that it would be easing Tim’s fears as well. When there was a lapse in the conversation, she slid down so that her head rested on the back of the sofa. She handed Tim her glass and asked, “Would you like to kiss me?”

Tim put their two glasses on the table and said, “I think I would.”

Ronnie wrapped her hand around the back of Tim’s neck and gently pulled him toward her. She framed his face with her hands as he touched her lips with his. Gently, teasingly, she moved her mouth over his, nipping his lower lip with her teeth. “Ummm, nice,” she purred.

Tim sat back. “This is so awkward. I don’t know what to do with my hands. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.” He looked away.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Ronnie said, “but I’ll be very disappointed.”

Suddenly annoyed with the whole thing, he looked at her and snapped, “I don’t need charity.”

Ronnie stood up, unzipped her jeans, and slid them to her knees. She grabbed Tim’s hand and pressed it against the crotch of her panties. “What do you feel? Am I hot and wet for you? Does this feel like charity?”

Her heat warmed his hand and her wetness made his fingers damp. She wanted him. Really wanted him. He looked into her eyes and saw desire burning there. Oh Lord, don’t let me back out, he prayed, both to himself and to Ronnie.

She pulled his hand away from her crotch and held it while she slid her jeans back up and sat back down on the sofa. “I want you,” she said softly, her gaze never leaving his eyes, “but I’ll stop if you really want me to.” She raised his hand to her mouth and placed a kiss on the end of each finger. “Should I stop?”

“No,” he moaned.

She flicked her tongue over the tip of his index finger. “Then let’s pretend that this is your cock.” She drew the tip of his finger into her mouth. “Can you feel it? Does it feel good?”

He certainly could and it was unbelievably erotic. Electricity sparked in his groin, hardening his penis. “It feels very good.” The words came out as part breath and part groan.

“Good. Then close your eyes and let me suck you.” Tim closed his eyes and let his head fall onto the back of the sofa. It would be all right. Millimeter by millimeter she pulled Tim’s index finger into her mouth, licking and nipping at the tip. She moved to the second finger and sucked it, then the third and then the pinkie. She lavished attention on each finger of his other hand in turn, until heat radiated from his body.

“This is how much I want you,” she whispered. She took his hand and rubbed the palm against one erect nipple. This was wonderful. She could use his hand to touch herself exactly the way she wanted. She pressed and rubbed, arching her back and reveling in the sensations caused by his hand on her breast. Despite her hunger, however, she went no further, wanting Tim to take some of the initiative.

Soon touching Ronnie’s breast through her shirt wasn’t enough for Tim. He wanted to kiss her, to touch and taste her. He licked his lips and stared at her mouth. “I want you.” Hesitant to do anything to break the mood, yet unable to resist any longer, he leaned forward and brushed Ronnie’s lips with his. Suddenly he needed to devour and be devoured. He moved his head so he could delve into her warm mouth. He couldn’t get enough of her.

Ronnie had never been kissed so thoroughly. “Oh Tim,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck. They kissed for a long time, as Ronnie slowly stretched out on the sofa and pulled him over her so that his body covered hers.

“Too many clothes,” Ronnie whispered when they paused for breath. As Ronnie removed her blouse and tossed it on a chair Tim stood up and pulled off his shirt. His body was just as beautiful as Ronnie had anticipated. When he stood and started to unbutton his jeans, Ronnie stopped him. “Not yet.” She stood up and moved so close to him that her lace-covered breasts brushed the sparse hair on his chest. Slowly she ran her hands over his well-developed shoulders. “When you opened the door I knew your body would look like this,” she murmured. “So beautiful.”

“I go to the gym a couple of times a week,” he said, breathless. “I lift.”

“You certainly do,” Ronnie said, sliding her palms over his chest and down his back. “Your body is wonderful.”

Tim unhooked Ronnie’s bra and freed her breasts. “So is yours.”

Ronnie slid Tim’s hands down her ribs. “Pick me up,” she said. “I want to feel you move.”

With Ronnie’s palms on his upper arms, Tim tightened his hands on her waist and lifted. “I love the way your muscles move under your skin,” she said, kneading Tim’s biceps.

“And I love your tits,” he said, holding her so her breasts were level with his mouth. He took one nipple and drew it into his mouth.

Her hands roaming over Tim’s smooth shoulders and back, Ronnie let her head fall back, exposing her smooth, white throat. Tim took the invitation and lowered her slightly so he could nuzzle her neck. Holding her easily with her feet inches off the floor, Tim licked Ronnie’s pulse points and nibbled at the tender spot where her neck joined her shoulder. “You taste so good,” he moaned.

He set her down gently and continued kissing her neck and shoulders. Soon neither of them could stand, so they quickly removed their jeans and underwear and stretched out on the sofa. “This feels so strange,” Ronnie said, rubbing her back against the rough texture of the sofa’s fabric. “It’s actually erotic.”

Tim rubbed his arms over the material. “I’ll never think about this sofa the same way.”

“I want you, you know.” Not giving the flash of panic she saw a chance to blossom, Ronnie reached for Tim’s already-hard cock. She unwrapped the condom she had dropped on the table earlier and slowly unrolled it onto Tim’s hard cock. “Cold?”

“Yes,” he said. “And very exciting.”

“Let me share it.” She rubbed the end of his cold, wet prick over her wet pussy. “Ummm, it is cold. And I’m so hot for you.” She positioned his erection between her inner lips and arched her back. His cock drove into her. “Hold still and let me,” she said, squeezing her vaginal muscles and watching the pleasure clearly visible on Tim’s face.

She turned and pushed him back so his head rested against the back of the sofa and he was half sitting and half lying. “Hold still and just feel.” She sat on his lap and impaled herself on his shaft. She used her thighs to raise her body, then drop, over and over, altering the speed and depth to suit her desires.

“Oh Lord,” he moaned. “I’m going to shoot.”

“Not yet,” Ronnie said as orgasm built deep within her. “Hold completely still and feel, but don’t come.” When she felt him twist, she snapped. “Don’t move and don’t come!” He opened his eyes and stared at her. Slowly a smile spread over his face and he nodded.

She settled in his lap barely moving, his cock deep inside of her. “I’m going to come and I want you to share it.” She took Tim’s hand and touched her clit. Waves of pleasure started at her toes and deep in her belly and washed over her body ending in her pussy. “Feel,” she yelled.

Her orgasm clutched at his cock, drawing his climax from him. “Yes. Now!” she groaned. “Do it.” He thrust upward once, twice, then came, hard. Almost without movement, their mutual orgasms continued for long seconds. Ronnie collapsed pulling Tim with her and they dozed, tangled together.

Later, Tim stretched. “That was amazing.”

“It certainly was. You were perfect.”

He sighed and smiled. “We were perfect. I never knew making love could be so wonderful. Can we do this again sometime soon?”

“As long as we don’t get confused. I enjoy fucking you, and we’re friends. But that’s all. Jack and I have a special thing and I love him very much.”

“I understand. I can keep everything in perspective. Okay?”

“Okay. And you’ll take some pictures of me sometime?”

“I’d love to.”

An hour later, Ronnie arrived home to find Jack waiting for her. “How did it go, love?” he asked.

“It was fabulous and I think very…how should I say it…educational. How are you?”

“You know, I’m surprised at how I am. I’m great, and horny as a goat just thinking about you with that boy.”

Ronnie grinned. “Well, we could go upstairs and work off that excitement.” She walked over to Jack’s chair, knelt between his knees, and unbuckled his belt. As she unzipped his fly she brushed his hard cock. “Or maybe we could stay right here.” She separated the sides of the fly in his shorts allowing his hard cock to spring forth. “What’s your pleasure?”

“You’re my pleasure,” Jack said softly. “So much pleasure.”

Ronnie made a tight ring of her index finger and thumb and slowly slid that ring down the length of Jack’s cock. With her fingers tightly encircling the base of her husband’s cock, Ronnie licked the tip with the point of her tongue. Then she kissed the tiny hole in the end. “Your cock is so hard—like warm velvet over steel.” She sucked the end into her wet mouth and slowly slid the length of it into her throat.

Jack watched his wife’s head bob in his lap, unable to control the frantic excitement bubbling inside him. His hips bucked and his hot come tried to rush through the tight ring of her fingers. “Oh babe, let me. I’m so horny.”

“Let you come?” she said, letting her breath cool Jack’s wet cock. “Release my fingers?”

“Yes.”

She sucked in his cock and then pulled back. “Say please.”

“Please, babe.”

Ronnie released her fingers and took Jack’s entire thick cock into her mouth, sucking and flicking her tongue over the tip. Almost immediately hot come filled her mouth. As fast as she swallowed, some thick liquid escaped from the corners of her mouth.

When Ronnie had licked all the stickiness from Jack’s cock, she sat back and said, “Now, let’s go upstairs and we’ll make love nice and slow.”

Jack grinned his agreement.

Three days later, Ronnie stormed to the door, waving an envelope, as Jack arrived home. “You’ll never believe what came in the mail today.”

Jack could tell she was furious. “Calm down, babe, and tell me what happened.”

“TJ sent me a check for three hundred dollars and a thank-you note for the evening I spent with Tim.”

“So why are you so angry?” Jack said, dropping his briefcase on the hall table.

“I didn’t do this to get paid. I feel like a whore.”

“But he was going to pay a prostitute anyway. Why shouldn’t you take the money?”

Ronnie released her breath. “I am not a whore.”

“No one said you were.”

“But doesn’t this make me one? Sex for money.”

“Stop being judgmental,” Jack said walking into the kitchen. “You had fun, Tim had fun, and TJ was delighted with the way everything turned out. And Tim’s a better person because of your help. Right?”

“Yeah, but….” She was flustered.

“Don’t but me. How can this be wrong when no one’s been hurt?”

“But I’m not a…” Ronnie paused.

“Hooker, call girl, prostitute, whore?” Jack said. “Words. Just words with all kinds of bullshit behind them. Stop using labels and think. Was anyone hurt?”

“No.”

“You performed a service, and did it well. Right?”

“Yes.”

“So you should be rewarded. Of course, you could send the check back….”

“I could.”

“But you don’t want to. So the end result is that you had fun and got paid for it. A dream job.”

“I guess I never thought of it that way.” She dropped into a chair. “God, I did have fun.”

“And so did we that night, if you remember.” He groaned loudly and pressed a hand against the small of his back. “Our acrobatics almost put me out of commission for good.”

Ronnie laughed. “You’re right, you know. I am being silly.” She stared at the check. “Three hundred dollars for having a good fuck. Seems almost too good to be true.”

“So buy yourself something extravagant. Buy some sexy lingerie and gift wrap your gorgeous body for me.”

“I could squander this. It’s like found money.”

“Yes, it is. You know,” he paused, “my clients are sometimes out-of-town visitors who need to be entertained. Dinner, a show, intelligent conversation, and afterward…well, that’s between the client and his date. If you think you’d like to earn some extra money….”

“Prostitution?”

“Fun and games and a little cash on the side. And only if you want to.”

“How much cash on the side?” she said, amazed at how excited she suddenly was by the idea.

“I’ve never been involved directly, but from what I understand they pay anywhere from three hundred to one thousand dollars per evening. For adult entertainment.”

Ronnie’s eyes widened. “One thousand dollars???”

Jack nodded.

“I’m flabbergasted. For doing what we’ve been doing anyway. Would you be okay with it, me with other men?”

“Well, if you’ll tell me afterward a little about what happens, the idea turns me on.”

“I won’t violate any confidences, you understand.”

“Of course not.” He saw the gleam in Ronnie’s eye. “Interested?”

“I think I might be.”

He took her arm. “This conversation has made me horny. Wanna practice for your new profession? Or I could conduct your preemployment physical.”

Ronnie headed for the stairs. “Last one to the bedroom has to sleep in the wet spot.”